Fatal attractions: The hunter's dilemma
by IronGnome
Summary: When Dean Winchester is assigned to work a job in a town rife with supernatural history, the biggest shock he received was a face from the past in the midst of the chaos.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, I suppose, if this is the introduction I have with most of you. First and foremost, I'd like to thank you for taking a moment to read this preface to my** first** fanfic. I consider myself a relatively experienced writer but I do tend to make mistakes at times, whether in the form of grammar or contextual accuracy. Though I consider myself an avid fan of both shows I've chosen to involve in this storyline and strive to assure correct details, if there is anything I happen to overlook, I'd prefer it if it was politely noted, as opposed to screamed at me via comments or otherwise.

Due to the nature of this fic, I expect it to become mildly confusing, mainly because of the show lore's clashing heads. I'd ask readers to suspend their disbelief to an extent, though again if something is grossly inaccurate without obvious reason feel free to let me know.

Keep in mind, while I do have a story still in progress, and an idea of an ending, this will probably take a long time to complete. This is primarily due to me being incredibly busy outside of writing, but also due to my writing style which usually takes me quite a while to get anything done, and therefore I ask patience between chapters, especially if this turns out at all successful.

Please also be aware that this will contain relatively mature content at times. If you're at all squeamish or not one for somewhat explicit content, I'd rather you looked elsewhere as this probably isn't for you.

As a final note, again, thank you for taking your time out. I do hope you enjoy reading as much as I do writing the fic. Feel free to post feedback, both positive and negative, as long as it's logical and constructive.


	2. Chapter 2

**-1-**

Vampires in Virginia. Who'd have thought it? Dean Winchester drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of the 1967 Chevy Impala, while listening to a combination of the guttural engine growl and the familiar loop of classic rock that usually accompanied him on his journey to one place or another. Just when he thought he might get one decent night's sleep (and maybe even a lie in if he was lucky the following morning) he was sent off, as he really should have expected, towards Virginia to deal with a surge in the blood sucker population. Considering how many times he'd crossed paths with the species, he prided himself as something close to an expert in terms of dealing with them, though it was always a nice surprise to have a little variety. A Vetala, for instance, would have been a welcome change from the simple machete to the neck approach that would end this job.

According to Bobby, the town he was destined had been plagued with aspects of the supernatural over the centuries, from witches to werewolves and a huge influx of vampires within recent decades. Heeding the veteran hunter's advice, he'd made sure to toss a few extra stakes and a handful of silver bullets into the already crowded boot of the Impala. Though Sam would have made for a great set of extra hands, Bobby had decided that one hunter was enough to deal with a few vamps, and sent him to the opposite end of the country to deal with an especially vicious Rugaru over in Seattle.

With the already crowded concoction of supernatural existence in this town, Dean wondered what else he might find hiding away from civilisation and hoping no such thing as a hunter came across it.

Having only a few miles to go before he arrived, the Impala found itself progressing from the freshly tarmacked interstate to the well-worn rural roads leading a winding path through a vibrant forest. The sun that had blinded him previously was now splintered by the branches and leaf cover overhead, with streaks of light bursting through cracks in the sprawl. When the dark trunks that cloaked the road finally broke, he found himself staring at a compelling waterfall, which churned water off a peak far out of sight. Usually, he'd have thought nothing of it, but its impression on the landscape left something to be admired. It began further up that he could see from the window frame of the car door which gave him half a mind to pull over and fully appreciate it.

"Focus on the job Dean" he muttered to himself, while intentionally slowing down to take in the scenery, before it finally slipped away completely and his side view returned to the now incredibly monotonous treeline.

He realised a few seconds too late he'd passed the sign welcoming him to whatever this place was called (In true Bobby fashion, he'd been forced to make his way here with coordinates alone and the words "some old town"), as well as telling him to slow down, causing a hard application of the brakes to bring him to speed as he returned to smooth road.

Moments later he found himself slowing to appreciate – this time – a manmade structure: a magnificent bell tower in the centre of the square. With the impression this town was a little too classy for a cheap motel, he went in search of the next best thing with the notion it would be a 'personal treat' and he could afford the expected cost since Sam was absent.

In doing so, he found himself navigating the chaotic flood of people exiting the local college for the day. Course, his eyes lingered on one or two especially appealing figures while trying to remind himself they're probably a little too young for his taste. 'Probably' being the operative word. He was easily swayed by appearance alone after all. There was one face though, that stood out for a reason he couldn't quite place. Most likely, it was just due to her incredible good looks but he found himself unable to shake a feeling of familiarity towards her. He did always have a thing for blonde girls mind. He sighed away the deliberation to himself as he finally escaped the crawling traffic and eventually found himself somewhere to put up.

The room turned out to be luxurious by his relatively average standards. An entire double bed for solely him to occupy made up the centrepiece of the room, positioned opposite a 30 inch widescreen television. After a few hours consisting of settling himself in and catching a blissful moment of shut eye, Dean decided the first port of call would be the apex of social interaction in almost every town, city, or remotely built up area: The bar.

Quite the pleasant surprise for him to find that in fact, the bar doubled as grill, meaning he could combine both his love for steak with his passion for alcohol. He took a table to himself, ordering himself a large draught alongside an almighty cut doused in the house barbeque dressing.

"This. This is just perfect." He said aloud, inhaling the mouth-watering scent of the cut of criss-crossed meat on the plate in front of him. It really was the little things in life. Making an enthusiastic start on the steak, he sliced a sliver of darkened meat, revealing a pink juicy interior as a result of his requested style.

Accompanying him throughout his meal was a seemingly bottomless beer glass, which during the process of washing down the last of the steak, he spied what he liked to think of as potential company for the night. If she happened to be so lucky, perhaps he'd keep her on for a couple more nights after that. So there he was, opposite an empty seat with a full stomach and both eyes watching the bright and bubbling persona erupting at the bar. Her long blonde hair had a shimmer to it every time she turned her head, which much to his disappointment continued to face front. He ordered yet another pint to build on his already considerable total, and with the removal of his plate, was allowed a period to intake the ambience of the bar-grill as much as you really can under the circumstances, but to Dean, it was an excuse to try and catch her attention and hit off conversation.

And then she turned just enough to look back over her shoulder. And he lowered his glass from his lips as their eyes locked unexpectedly. And at precisely the same time, he watched her mouth 'Dean' while he replied with a name which explained everything. "Amanda."

**-1-**


	3. Chapter 3

**As a note, the perspective change I frequently employ here is something I've continued throughout the fic so far (in writing, not where posted, obviously). I don't intend it to be confusing, and have read it over a few times to make sense of it to myself...so hopefully it's easy enough to follow. Enjoy.**

-2-

Caroline looked back over her shoulder for two reasons. One, was to assure her female company for the evening she'd be fine to catch up with her old friend for the remainder of the night, and not to hold up. The second, and much more bothersome, was to look for any Amanda's she might happen to know sitting at the bar. Of course, she knew every single face by name. Mystic Falls wasn't used to visitors, and strangers usually spelt trouble in one of the many ways, shapes or forms that it could be delivered in.

Confident it was just a misunderstanding; she nodded to assure herself and started purposefully towards the eternally handsome face of Dean Winchester. "Deeaaaaaaaan!" she half screamed as she came within a few steps of his table which he was currently turning away from to face her, and apparently welcome her with a hearty embrace.

"Amanda. Well look at you. You still look as gorgeous as you did-"

"-the time I caught you with some random girl who was more deserving of your attention than your girlfriend? I know. I look after myself."

Caroline's thought's had accelerated from the usual tornado of fleeting ideas into a hurricane of questions, issues, potential answers and a prominent sense of elation. So much had changed. So much he didn't know, and most of that he shouldn't know. He'd never believe half her story even if she simplified it. "Just act normal. Control. Relaxed" she repeated to herself in the privacy of her head. What she didn't realise however, was that Dean was replaying the exact same thing in his own mind, which similarly had become a cacophony of voices telling him different things. This had been what caused him to pull her into a hug out of impulse from the comfort of his seat.

"There's a spare seat…if you fancy a drink that is." He tried to adopt his most inviting tone as he let her go, still not quite sure what had come over him.

She settled herself down opposite him and after yet another round of drinks were ordered, this time apparently 'on the house', began to try and explain herself to Dean.

They busied themselves with the usual small talk, asking how the years had treated them, ordering more drinks, joking, digging and innocently flirting. Amanda was apparently studying at the college he'd drove past on his way in, which sent his mind spinning (only encouraged by the intoxicated state of his bloodstream). How was she still in college?…she never struck him as that type when they'd met. The catch up continued in the 'question and answer and return the question' format for a while before Caroline chewed down on her lower lip, obviously deep in thought, which halted their conversation.

"Come on then Dean…Winchester was it? What's really brought you to town?"

Taken aback and stunned as to how to respond, Dean took a moment to study her, watching as her gaze flitted from him to all around the bar and then back to him. He replied in a much calmer, though still warm tone.

"My name is still Dean Winchester, as I'm sure is reassuring to hear. I'm exactly the same jackass you walked away from in high school. Everything I told you back then was true. In fact, the whole word is a lot crazier than you probably thought ever possible."

"Somehow I doubt that" she thought silently to herself while offering a sweet smile and a nod to prompt him to carry on.

"And as things stand, it's your little dot on the map which is dealing with its fair share of crazy Amanda."

Dean had realised the alcohol was speaking a while back. But something was keeping him talking all this apparent 'nonsense' to a girl who didn't believe him the first time and would never understand the depth of the situation. Never mind attempting to explain the concept of an apocalypse to her, how was he supposed to tell her she was likely surrounded by vampires and who knows what else. Was it that maybe, deep down, he still cared? And almost every single person they've saved in the past never believed them until they almost died, and would have if it wasn't for the Winchesters.

But he didn't want Amanda to even be at risk, let alone near death. And by that logic, he found himself telling her what she might need to know. Not everything, of course, lest he appear entirely mad.

Her expression changed, though not how he expected it might during the progression of their talk and the depleting of their glasses. She seemed genuinely curious as to his vast knowledge of vampires, werewolves, witches and ghosts. The first in particular, she had him explain multiple times, which he put down to the typical young female fascination with those damn sparkly bastards. If only she knew the truth. Her face frequently changed to one of shock, surprise and sometimes he swore she seemed amused with something he said, as if she knew better.

Meanwhile, Caroline was trying to figure out how Dead Man's blood was considered a striking weakness considering she'd consumed a few pints of it that morning and currently she was feeling as bright as ever. For such an accomplished hunter, Dean's proposal of killing werewolves with silver seemed redundant, since she knew for a fact that healed them. On top of that, his comprehensive list of the town's supernatural troubles skipped out the main cause of concern: Hybrids.

"Well just look at that" he muttered to himself after pulling a vibrating phone from his pocket. "It's getting a little late. Sure I can't walk you home?" Caroline joined him as he stood, collecting her jacket off the back of the seat and slipping it on while making her way towards the door. Inhaling a lungful of cold air as she stepping out into the cold she replied "And hopefully come in for coffee? No Dean. Not tonight." With that dismissal, she turned back towards him and gave him a hug, accompanied by a peck on the cheek.

"Perhaps I'll see you around while I'm working" He replied. In an effort to stop a guilty flush of excitement showing on her face Caroline looked towards the floor, while mumbling in response that yes, perhaps he might.

"One thing though, before I go - I noticed you kept calling me Amanda. I forget you'd know no different…but things changed since I last saw you. Around here, I go by Caroline. Caroline Forbes. You'd do both of us a favour to keep my past to yourself, Dean."

With that, they set off in their opposite directions, both heads swimming with confusion, suspicion and concern, with hopeful wishes that this wouldn't be the only night they spent in one another's company.

-2-


	4. Chapter 4

-3-

House parties had never really been an event in which Dean felt comfortable. That most likely came down to the fact that his experience of them had been close to nothing. He'd never stayed in one spot long enough to make friends who fancied inviting him over for a gathering, let alone a full blown party. But Caroline (he had to keep reminding himself to call her that) had invited him specially, so he did his best to clean himself up and look appropriate.

The engine of the grumbling Impala was gradually drowned out as Dean approached by the music from the Forbes household. He hesitated in his seat as he slowly released the belt from across his chest, weighing up what he was about to put himself through. "Hey Dean. Game face. Put it on." He inhaled a long deep breath before finally forcing himself out the car and up the drive. Just as his knuckles were about to rap the glass pane, the door flew open in front of him, unleashing a torrent of ghastly electronic music which caused him to physically flinch. He snapped quickly out of it when he realised the beaming blonde girl standing before him with a figure hugging white dress to the middle of her thighs was indeed Caroline, whose smile alone invited him in.

Strangely, once he'd been inside for a few minutes his ears adjusted appropriately, and the noise didn't seem quite so oppressing. With a beer in hand, he found himself beginning to relax, and Caroline introduced him to a number of faces simply with fleeting smiles and "Hello's".

He stood with a buzzing Caroline in her kitchen, as she got herself another drink, and to make use of the occasion he hastily drained the first beer. "Be a dear and grab another while you're there would you?" She turned her head back towards him with a cherubic grin, her blonde locks curling around her other shoulder as she leant into the fridge and collected another pleasantly chilled bottle. Dean's eyes lingered for a precious second on her form from this angle and he found himself so drawn in, he didn't notice a muscular black haired figure stroll in beside him. "Am I…interrupting something Caroline?" She stood, handing Dean his beer before cocking her head to one side and after a moment's pause replied. "No Tyler. What makes you say that?" He slid Dean a knowing glance before smiling to himself. "Eh, nothing. Just checking." With that he offered Dean his hand, which was accepted apprehensively. Dean noted the power in his grip, which struck him as abnormally vice-like for a guy who looked barely 20, even with his distinct physique. Almost superhuman.

Dean gave him a nod in return, and Tyler moved out the kitchen through to another room, the brief opening of the door flaring the room with noise and bright light. When the closing of the wooden frame muffled the household once again, Caroline finally piped up. "I'm…I'm sorry about Tyler. We had a thing once, and he's a real close friend. Strangers out the blue are something he keeps an eye out for…so until he approves of you, he might be a little tetchy like that. But he only means well. Honest." She went to shrug her shoulders, before deciding against it and giving him a tentative smile.

"Hey, don't sweat it. I can handle myself if he gives me any trouble." Dean responded, and doing his best to look macho, finally undid the cap of the bottle taking a deep swig. With a gesture of her hand, he found himself following her through to the room with more loud music and vibrant lighting.

Fortunately for Dean, the next couple of hours passed much more easily, though, how much of that was due to the consumption of alcohol was uncertain. Probably a lot. He'd met two Italian brothers, who found themselves infatuated with two almost identical twins. The easiest (if not only) way you could tell them apart was the style of hair. Relatively soon into the conversation the one with curled brunette locks, who Dean couldn't help but cast an eye over once or twice, found herself predisposed with Damon's explorative hands. With that, Dean nodded at the younger brother and straight haired female, and rose from his seat to carry on around the outside of the room that made for Caroline's lounge. From the front, he'd never have expected the house to possess so much space.

As the hours passed he moved onto the harder liquor, most of which Caroline personally encouraged. He realised as the hours reset for a new day that he'd barely spoken to her since earlier. He kept seeing her flash by, flitting from place to place and keeping everything in check. He didn't blame her – the household was crowded. Bottles and cans and glasses and cups and plates and containers were everywhere. He found himself in drunken conversation with a light haired young face, who seemed a great deal more reserved than some of the other guests. He sipped slowly from a red cup since moving to water a short while into their conversation. "Working tomorrow" he shrugged with the excuse. When he mentioned he worked in the local grill, Dean realised why his face was familiar.

"I gotta say. The steaks there…wow buddy. Top notch" Matt, as Dean came to know him, smiled and said thanks on behalf of the chef, while Dean simply sat and acknowledged his own intoxication.

"Do you ever get that feeling" he said while turning to face Matt with an expression of deep thought on his face "that you're really out of place?"

"I do, Dean. Quite often. But I expect it's probably for different reasons to whatever you're thinking"

This left Dean perplexed, and he stewed over the meaning of Matt's words for a short while, before Caroline suddenly reappeared with a pout, causing the room to gradually quieten down and the music to suddenly cut.

"Guyssssssss. I'm sorry, but the party is getting cut short. Complaints about the noise, and its kinda getting late"

"DON'T WORRY LOVE" roared a chilling accent from the back of the room, which Dean could barely make out "I'LL GO SILENCE THE COMPLA-"

The voice cut out when the jaw dropping blonde by his side elbowed his ribs and snapped in his ear "Hush Nik." Dean found himself staring, unable to draw his eyes away. In fairness, he'd experienced that a number of times tonight with the females that surrounded him. She became aware of him staring at her, and shot a caustic glance in his direction which almost sobered him entirely by itself. Following the path of people towards the front door, he found himself pulled to one side in the hall by Caroline. "Hey sweetie" they said at the same time, sharing a mutual pause, after which Dean went to remove his keys from his back pocket, yet found them instead dangling off the ring finger on Caroline's right hand. "You aren't driving tonight mister." She looked over his shoulder as the last of her friends cleared off, with Tyler giving a final raised eyebrow and her dismissing him with a swish of her hand. "You can stay here for the night…I need some company anyway"

-3-


	5. Chapter 5

-4-

Caroline curled her fingers around Dean's wrist and led him silently up her staircase. He kept pausing to study the paintings and photos adorning the wall, and every so often she had to lightly pull on his side for him to keep moving. The fact she felt the effects of the drinking that night, meant she was in awe he was still standing. She supported his form with ease, as they made slow progress towards her bedroom door while Dean clutched her against him affectionately. He chimed on about having a good night, hoping his 'baby' was ok and slurring a few incoherent thoughts out while they shuffled tediously slowly towards their intended destination. She nodded and hummed as he spoke, guiding him into her room and carefully sitting him on the edge of her bed. She chewed her lip as he made himself comfortable, noting silently how perfectly crisp and pristine the sheets had been just 10 seconds prior. She fended off his inquisitive hands as he sat back upright, deftly swatting them aside as she tussled with the front of his shirt, gradually unbuttoning it from the top. Allowing herself a drawn out smile, she let her hand linger on the firmness of his chest, the warmth of which graced her fingertips and it took a sharp intake of breath being forced into her lungs for her to snap out of the moment, and with it, flicked Dean's broad palm which had again made its way to her hip.

"You're getting ahead of yourself Mr Winchester" she said and he just grinned in response, quickly followed by an unexpected slight groan that comes with the sensation of being drunk. For Dean Winchester, this was familiar. Caroline's nimble fingers continued down the middle of his torso, revealing inch after inch of his body to her impatient eyes. As the last button came free, she slid her hands across his skin and back up to his shoulders, removing his shirt and casting it to the floor beside her feet.

With that as a supposed cue, Dean fell back onto the bed sheets, allowing the cool material of the duvet to embrace his naked torso. He felt Caroline's hands on his waist, and then at the bottom of his stomach, and then on the front of his jeans. He enjoyed the gentle pressure her wrists put on his thighs, and felt the relief of his belt being unbuckled was adequate excuse to warrant his mind racing, just a little. A few moments later, his jeans were off, and opening one eye, he caught the blonde head of hair lower between his legs as she bent from the waist. Suddenly, he had cold feet, and Caroline was back upright in front of him. Those happy thoughts circling his head had just crashed into a brick wall of reality and the frown on his face must have resembled that. Caroline raised an eyebrow in response, pointing a finger towards an open door, with a bright yellow light resonating from inside.

"You're in no state to share my bed as it is. Shower!" she ordered, and he knew the stern expression probably wasn't worth arguing with. It now made sense as to why she left his briefs on. And it had been going so well…

"What, you're not joining me darlin'?" he said with a challenging smile, sitting back up. He hauled himself to stand, and after a playful push from soft female hands, walked across her plush carpet towards the en suite.

Caroline, innocently of course, spent the next few seconds admiring his chiselled physique from her angle, especially his defined backside. As he nudged the door closed, she realised she still had the slightest gap to spy him through. She noticed she was biting her lower lip while he rid himself of his final piece of attire, which gave her hand reason to slide over her stomach to between her thighs. She struggled with the material of her dress, deciding hastily to slip it off her shoulders, shimmying her hips out of its tight constraint. She found herself finally able to widen her legs, at least, more than she could have beforehand, and it was here she began a gentle caress; attending to a growing ache with her index and middle fingers. The simple satisfaction she gained from just a few seconds of attention was enough to convince her that the idea forming in her head was the only course of action she could possibly follow through with under the circumstances. Taking a graceful step out of the clothing, she expertly unhooked her bra and let it fall off her finger a few steps from the dress, before not-so-elegantly slipping her feet free of the underwear which now contained evidence of her arousal. With a moment to collect herself next to the door, she waited for the water to begin steaming the glass around Dean, before stepping into the bathroom and turning off the light switch.

Dean had to admit, for all the disappointment that came as a result of his imagination, this shower was doing wonders for his journey to soberness. He'd left the door open an inch as a deliberate attempt at an invitation, and could only hope Caroline had realised. He damn well noticed the way her hands got to freely explore his body, while his were kept at bay. A challenge, a game…a welcome change.

For a bathroom, never mind an en suite, he was impressed by the space. The cream washed walls, the cold tiles of the floor, the shower enclosed by frosted glass. All of it was different to what he was used to. Was this what home felt like?

After a moment, he thought that was unlikely, especially considering the contents of the shelving, and the plethora of bottles and soaps lining the shelf of the shower. He stepped in, letting the glass door slowly close shut behind him while he began messing with the dials. The remaining drunkenness was shocked out of him when a burst of icy water struck his back and sides, from not only the main showerhead, but the smaller jets opposite one another. He heard himself gasp over the sound of flowing water, and curse while it took a few seconds to adjust to the red zone of the dial.

Then relief. Warmth. The water streaming down his back and then the slight burning sensation that developed when he dared turn it an inch further. And then darkness, and a second pair of hands, that couldn't be the ones he had pressed against the walls as he leant forward, closing around his waist. The distinct shape of her breasts pressing against his curved back. The flowing length of dry blonde hair on his shoulder that slowly slicked together and stuck to his skin. So, the invitation had worked.

All of these new sensations were due entirely to her. Dean was allowing his mind to race again, not because of what he thought might happen, but because he knew they would. Her fingertips slid down his V-line, and while her left hand stroked the inside of his thigh, Caroline's right curled around his growing length, and Dean was finally greeted with a surprised giggle.

"Someone's very happy to see me…" she growled in his ear, while excitedly stroking his cock, her spare hand now gently caressing his balls.

And just like that, Dean could take it no longer. He turned and stood back against the cold glass, and while Caroline's hands remained busy below his waist, he pulled her towards him and took a single kiss from her lips. And then another. And before he knew what he was doing, his hands had found themselves on her hips, and while she teased him, he was biting her lower lip in a more heated embrace and occasionally releasing the slightest quiver of a moan.

Dean's hands shifted round to her lower back, and edged down slowly around the curve of her ass. He noticed the pause in her breathing as his fingers curled into her cheeks, and the slowing of her strokes, which only came to a complete stop when her hands left his crotch to latch onto his shoulders. He felt the sharpness of her nails digging into his flesh as he forced her against the steamed-up glass, the jets against her back causing her to arch into him. He felt her lips brush against his length sending shock waves of lust up his spine, and a pulse of intensity rippling through his body as her tongue raced across his neck. Guiding his hands onto the back of her thighs, he lifted her legs to his waist, and instinctively she closed them tightly around his back.

All Dean could think about was his hardness pressing against and between Caroline's wet thighs. He had her body all to himself; her eyes of carnal intent, those lips with a magic touch, her neck that was just so incredibly kissable, her rounded breasts that felt so good when pressed against his chest, her legs wrapped so tightly around his back, forcing his cock against her. She knew exactly what she was doing, he was sure of it. And he loved every second.

Dean kissed her neck, and after a few seconds kisses evolved to gentle bites. The contrasting responses his body gave to the water cascading from above and around them, the glass he held her firmly against, and the feeling of their forms so close was too much for Dean to resist. He needed it. He needed her. Every inch that she could give him. But he needed _more_. And as he slipped himself inside of her, and his ears captured her gasp of satisfaction, he realised he needed Caroline Forbes…to need him back.

-4-


	6. Chapter 6

**So, almost a pathetically short chapter, admittedly. This was more of a bridge than an actual content installment, as I expect is obvious from length. I apologise in advance. Very busy outside of writing, and if I give you too much too soon, then I run out of content. So, a little per week will be the format till I have some time to work on it properly. Hope you're all enjoying thus far. Sharing, reviews and any questions are by all means welcome.**

**-Gnome**

-6-

Caroline blinked as the late morning sun shone through a slim parting in her curtains. Her head was tender, she noticed, as she shut her eyes and lost herself within her thoughts. It was unusually warm, though that was a welcome surprise, encouraged further by the thick duvet brought up to her shoulders. It smelt of Dean. She inhaled deeply, recalling the night before. When the shower had concluded, they'd collapsed into her bed, only to find they both fancied a second round. After that, it was safe to say the pair were exhausted. Dean Winchester had remarkable stamina, in more ways than one. She guided a hand backwards searching for a thigh, or a hip…but found nothing but the empty impression on her mattress where he should have been.

Her plans for the morning seemed to dissolve at this point. She shifted, and sat up against the head board, only to see the bathroom door wide open, and no light. "Deeean" she called out quietly, to no response. She concentrated her hearing, and again only found the gentle rhythm of her own breathing to penetrate the otherwise silent household. "Dean" she whispered again, though this time in a more reflective manner. What had she done for him to disappear so quickly? She swung her legs out of bed and quickly acquired some underwear, before standing and tossing a thin pale blue gown around her shoulders to cover the rest of her body. Tentatively she approached the window, answering another question as a single tear traced its way over her cheek. His car was gone off the front of the drive.

Dean, by contrast, had risen early, even by his standards. He'd left the warmth and comfort of Caroline Forbes behind exchanging it for the familiar solitude of the Impala's driving seat. That said, he wasn't far away – simply the car park of the motel. He was sitting with a large cup of bland coffee on his dash, and possessed a slight tremor in his hands. He eyed his phone every time it buzzed with any sort of notification, with three different conversations looping in his head. His first instinct, was to call Bobby and ask for either back up, or a new job. He hadn't even scratched the surface of what the hell was happening here, but already he had an urge to run and never look back. Then he realised all he'd get was the expected "Idjit" response, so then his thoughts turned to Sam. As a nice distraction, he busied himself playing over tactics for a Rugaru case: After the full transformation upon consuming human flesh you torch the son of a bitch. Simple. Sam could handle it. Surely. But maybe…maybe he had a justified reason to head across the damn country. Just call Sam. Check how it's going, if he needs a hand…and if he inquires about the vampires, say it can wait. To Dean, this was being forced to fit the mould of a 'good idea' when he full well knew it wasn't. This left only the third, dreaded option. It's a sensation that you can never really shake. It's a set of feelings that can't be explained by science, or the supernatural. Neither Biology, nor psychology can fully explain the complexities of human relations, especially that of sexual attraction. So there Dean sat, now thumbing through names. He scrolled back and forth, and it took a second for him to register the name in his contact list. His finger hovered about the green button. Just press down, wait and then explain yourself. What can you say that would surprise her now?

He couldn't bring himself to do it. Shaking his head he tried again, but his nerves had built a wall around that button and it just wouldn't press. It's more than possible he'd have sat there all day trying, to no avail. In reality, he was saved from a vicious circle of apprehension and guilt, by the broadcast of a most brutal animal attack.

He exhaled deeply; a drawn out sigh of relief, so to speak. Prompted into action, he exited the car, and headed towards his room, to freshen up and change into the expected attire for the job. Dean Winchester: House party virgin to high ranking FBI official.

-6-


	7. Chapter 7

-7-

Dean had arrived almost an hour after the call went out, as a completely different man. He'd regained his focus and composure, and now wore a smart black suit, a clean shaven face and no longer had the scent of Caroline clinging to him. He found it entirely normal that he was much more at ease on the scene of a barbaric murder, as opposed to a female bed the morning after. He was a short distance out of town, back onto the country lanes swallowed by parallel tree lines. The alternating red and blue lights mounted on a number of cop cars in the distance signaled he'd come the right way, and at a good time. Pulling up a short distance away, he approached the cordon across the road only to be met by a young faced member of the local agency. Quickly flashing the badge, he began his routine inquiry.

"So, what exactly seems to be the situation here?"

The officer looked stunned, and for once that wasn't due to the presence of the powers above appearing on the crime scene. He seemed apprehensive to even attempt an answer.

"It's…strange" came a reply. Dean raised an eyebrow in reply, as if to beckon a follow up description. "We just…we were on a regular patrol and then we found 'this' mess. Whatever it was that did it, it was big enough to smash the passenger side of the car up and then roll it onto its side and then somehow pull both the people from the car and into the trees"

Dean grimaced, and the officer shrugged, lifting the cordon and nodding him through. Dean's eyes flickered at his surroundings. Wendigo was his first thought, considering the circumstances. Out of a large populations immediate vicinity, but close enough to get regular opportunities for food. He briefly considered if he had a flare gun in his trunk, or better yet, a flamethrower. The likelihood was…neither. Fantastic!

As he got closer to the vehicle, he questioned another cop who seemed a little more relaxed than the first. Apparently, car accidents weren't all that rare. Nor were disappearances and especially brutal animal attacks for that matter. Something just didn't seem right around here. It wasn't quite 'alarm bells' but he was a tad unsettled by what he was hearing. And for just a moment, he thought about Caroline. That thought was quickly dismissed when he stared into the blood stained interior of the car. The windows were shattered, but not broken. Streaks within the glass hinted towards heads colliding into the sides, and the blood splatter simply confirmed it. He walked around the car, studying the scene with his own developing sense of shock. There was an almighty dent on the right hand side of the car which matched the report of a collision. One hell of a dent, even for a Wendigo or whatever it happened to be.

"Where about's are the bodies?" Dean was answered by a pointing hand to a gap, which he presumed was forcibly created. He stepped through and found a photographer conducting his usual practice.

"Mind if I take a look?" Dean asked, with another flash of the badge. A quick nod was the response, and Dean did his own analysis. Pulling the EMF device from a pocket on the inside of his suit, he let it run for a moment as well as glancing over the bodies and the surroundings. Nothing threw up any clues.

"You've studied these two in detail, right?" Another nod. "Found anything…peculiar?"

This time the photographer looked away from his camera and spoke up. "You mean aside from the copious mutilations, the dismembered limbs cast about the place and the generally unexplainable circumstances? Nothing at all"

To this, Dean pulled what could only be described as an unprofessional face – his smile was deliberately over exaggerated and fake. "Well thanks. You've been a great help. How long till these go to the coroners and get checked out?"

"Probably as soon as I'm done." He studied his camera screen for a second before looking at his watch and finishing off "Which should be in the next few minutes"

Dean nodded at the first piece of helpful information he'd received from the man, and turned on his heels, barely possessing any more of an idea than he had when he first arrived as to the case he was working.

"Find it, kill it" Had been the plain instructions of Bobby Singer. That was proving to be quite a bit more difficult than he'd expected. "I just wanted vampires. Machete to the neck and then cross country trip to finish up the Rugaru if needs be" Dean chimed to himself.

As he collapsed into the familiar seat of the Impala, his phone buzzed from his pocket. He continued breathing when he found the caller ID to be Sam.

"Hey Sammy!" Dean began, genuinely surprised to hear from his brother.

"Dean" Sam replied warmly, and after a short pause "How's Virginia?"

"Don't get me started. I have no god damn idea what I'm dealing with"

"You've phoned Bobby?"

"To tell him what? I'm running off a bust up car and two bodies dragged through the woods. I'm thinking Wendigo…maybe werewolf. But Bobby sent me here for a vampire nest, and so far I've seen none of those sons of bitches"

"Just stick at it. Sounds like you've got your plate full anyhow. Just be thankful you don't have a Rugaru who's got a particular taste for children. Don't even ask what he'd been in prison for during his time"

Dean shook his head in disgust. "Put him down Sammy. Torch that bastard. And Sammy. Be careful!"

"You too Dean" and with a mutual pause, the call ended.

-7-


	8. Chapter 8

-8-

A few hours later Dean found the information of the photographer to be true. The bodies did indeed end up in the morgue, or at least, what was left of them. The hospital was averagely sized, and averagely busy. Still dressed in the suit, albeit a little more relaxed in his appearance with the course of the day, he pushed through the doors into the toasty lobby. Rubbing his hands together to summon some warmth to his extremities, he approached the desk and drew the badge from his pocket in order to be rewarded with some attention. He soon got directions to the morgue, and grimaced upon entering a distinctly colder room.

All seemed quiet, until the scrape of metal caused him to snap to sense, and instinctively his hand fell to his side.

"Hello" he called out, wary of the poorly sit room. Then he heard the flick of a switch, and a soft buzzing sound before he was blinded by the dazzling lighting strips across the ceiling bursting to life. A warm smile poked around a door, and Dean was greeted by an apologetic doctor, who introduced herself as Meredith Fell.

This town got stranger as the days passed he reflected, while considering the rarity of incredibly attractive dark haired doctor's, specifically, ones who maintained that allure while discussing the state of the disfigured bodies laid on two separate tables.

"These are from the crash earlier?"

She gave him a subtle nod.

"I was hoping you'd be of more use than the guys at the scene" and to that she pulled a strained smile.

"Honestly, I can barely tell you much more." She replied, disappointingly. "I thumbed through their brief reports and these bodies…well, they're in too much of a state to really take anyway anything conclusive or definitive of the animal attack"

For such a tragic event, the line seemed incredibly dry. Void of reaction or emotion. No shock or disgust. Sure, doctors see body parts every day, but quite like this? Even in Dean's profession this was rare.

He paused, and really thought over what he was about to follow up with. Some contacts in the past had become familiar, not with the true nature of the Winchesters work, but knew what they looked for in potential cases.

This Doctor Fell was new. He had every reason to trust her like any other, but he couldn't shake a feeling of uncertainty.

"What makes you so sure this was an animal?" pried Dean. He noticed her eyes narrowing, as if to repel his question.

"Well, you have the dent in the door for one. You think a human could have made that impact?"

He had to admit, he couldn't fault it. But he needed to push the point. "Okay, so tell me about the actual killing?"

"They have bite marks. Or more, gore marks…" This had perked Dean's interested, and he nodded to encourage her to continue. "Their core organs were mangled, to put it lightly. One thing that I found in both cases, is that the heart was gone. I mean, other bits and pieces were gone as well, but the hearts were completely absent. No trace" She raised her hands to show she had no idea why. She seemed genuinely mystified.

"Well, doctor, I appreciate your time" he almost cut across her. She smiled, appearing slightly puzzled, and began the process of clearing away the bodies, and with that Dean turned to make a prompt exit.

"Definitely a werewolf then" Dean reflected, winding through the maze of corridors and double doors that comprised the innards of the building. He passed through a noticeably cold spot, a shiver running down his spine, so distinct he paused to study his surroundings. No air vents. No windows. Perhaps it was a breeze? He attuned his senses, inhaling deeply – no sulphur. And then the drone of a flatline rang out, and he peered round the closest doorway to see the monitor had relaxed to an almost perfectly horizontal line.

"Tessa" he whispered, without even thinking. He wished it to be Tessa, or at least the form she took; a most halcyon appearance, for a job so barren, to take you to the other side. He told himself, when his time finally came, he wouldn't mind all that much if he got to see an old friend once again.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the motion of a nurse pushing past, and quickly moved from the door. Not a minute had passed, he noted, looking at the clock on the opposite wall, yet that thought had utterly consumed him. He shook his head to wake himself up and soon after found an exit.

The cold air from outside stung his lungs as he took a breath. Holding it, he pulled open the door of his Impala, and was just about to slip into the driving seat when a pair of hands pulled him back and pushed him against the door of the backseat. The grip was like iron around his collar, and as much as he struggled, Dean could barely move.

Gasping out of shock, he focused, and was about to retaliate violently until he noticed it was a somewhat familiar face.

"Tyler?" he asked, not quite sure if he had the right name from the night before.

"Dean" came a blunt growl.

"You gonna let me go?" and just like that, he was released. "Before you start, I'm sorry and I didn't mean it"

"I don't care what you meant Dean" he spat the words out. "She is so delicate, so fragile on the inside, and she knows it…and she opened up to you so easily. I've never seen it before. That girl has an exterior like titanium. Sure, she's a friendly thing, but no one can just drop in like that. So apart from her specifically asking for me not to harm you, I genuinely don't want to. Well, that's a lie. I'd love to, since you left her in tears for most of today. But because I'm one hell of a good friend, you're getting off unscathed. Promise me something before you hide away in that precious cage of metal for me? Go and see her. Preferably tonight" And with that, Tyler attempted a smile to try and smooth the encounter over, before turning and walking away. Dean looked down to straighten his suit and just before he returned to his loyal Impala, he glanced up for Tyler, who had already gone.

-8-


	9. Chapter 9

-9-

It took the lightest of knocks for the door to creep open. Even with wet scarlet cheeks, a snug white shirt and grey sweats, Dean couldn't help but adore her.

It had taken him till the late evening to clean himself up and look presentable, even if all he'd come up with were fitted jeans and a comfortably tight shirt. 'Oh well' he thought to himself, 'the occasion doesn't call to impress'.

"D-dean" Caroline murmured as she leant her head into the firmness of his chest. She obviously didn't expect him to show. Yet he had, and he could tell from her presumably happy sobs she was overjoyed to see him. That illusion lasted for a few minutes while her arms clung around his lower back, and in return, he embraced her properly, for Dean deep down had wanted _this_ more than the realistic option. He knew he couldn't involve her in everything. Not with what had happened to Lisa, or any other partner. Hell, even Sam in a way. He got him involved, did he not, when he showed up…so many years ago. Dean was being selfish, but for just a moment of happiness, could he not allow himself to be like this? Just a night? Or another week perhaps? Could he stretch a month of it, maybe after the case? He knew it would end eventually, but he needed a break in a job which didn't allow any sort of respite.

His thoughts paused as a stinging sensation burst from his cheek, his head swinging to one side.

"JESUS Caroline" he grimaced, truly surprised by the force with which her palm had connected.

"Again Dean? Really? AGAIN? You screwed me over again, and I'm sick of you and every other guy I've ever been with doing this to me. Damn you Dean Winchester. Why did you have to be as bad as all the rest?"

"Caroline" Dean sighed, still holding a hand to his cheek "I can explain everything, I mean…I thought you might have figured-"

"-Figured what? That you really haven't changed from high school? Stupid, blonde Caroline Forbes, always missing the obvious! Is it is such a crime to wish I could just have a decent guy for one freaking moment of my life? You know, I've waited long enough"

"Let me speak, damn it. Listen up Blondie, and just take a minute to settle down. Why would I have come back if I didn't want you? Why would I put myself through any more misery if I could help it? Think about it. And I mean really think, not just a quick consideration"

And to Dean's astonishment, she actually paused to breathe.

"If that's so, how does the gallant Dean Winchester intend to make it up to his childhood sweetheart?" she almost tipped a smile as she finished, he thought.

"I had a few ideas" he said sincerely.

"Good ideas?" she questioned, a change in tone accompanying her words that he couldn't quite place.

"_Okay_ ideas" he replied almost apprehensively.

"I have a _really_ good one in mind"

Dean perked an eyebrow, more curious than anything else. The next thing he knew, he was pressed up against the wall to his back, the only sensation he cared for being the dainty fingertips tracing intricate patterns across the muscles of his chest. Instinctively, his arms locked around Caroline's back, reintroducing the familiar pressure of her chest flattening against his.

"Some things are done better when I really am angry with you Dean Winchester" and the tearing of his shirt (that he quite liked) only sought to emphasise she really wasn't in the mood to play games. Her full wet lips then danced up his chest, lingering on his pectorals before hopping up to his collarbone. There she hovered, her hands now shifting down to the belt of his jeans, and with a few seconds of fumbling and tugging that was cast aside too.

Dean wasn't innocent by any means. He encouraged the movement of his hands down her back, applying gentle pressure to force her lower half against the growing bulge in the crotch of his jeans. He slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her sweats, and then wiggled his palms till they could gain a handful of her backside, which rewarded him with a playful bite to his shoulder.

He felt the denim around his lower half fall away, and the cold surface of the wall meet the back of his thighs, then her hands curling around the sideways length in his boxer shorts. She ran her dainty palms against his crotch, taking special care against his now obvious hard-on. With a quick motion of her hands, and a slight bend of her knees, they were down to his ankles, and she gasped, stepping back out of his arms, as he got his feet free.

"I never…the shower…it was dark. Jesus Christ Dean" He felt a shiver zip down his spine from the compliment, the tingle of arousal from the very tip of his length amplifying his elation. Without another word, Caroline pulled her top over her head. She definitely wasn't expecting company tonight, Dean thought, as her breasts sat freely on her chest. She quickly crossed an arm over herself, more teasing than protective, and he took the pause in her flurry of decisiveness to turn the tables.

Dean approached her with confidence, his hands closing around her breasts as he walked her backwards to the opposite wall of her hallway. Caroline gasped, perhaps at his forwardness, which only continued as he silently lowered his head to the crook of her neck and grazed his teeth across her perfectly smooth skin. He slid his hands down her body, and out to her hips, firmly pressing her back against the wall, to no apparent objections considering she supposedly hated him.

He could feel his arousal brushing, almost impatiently, against the soft material on her lower half. Digging his hands underneath the waistband, he slid them around to her hips, and lowered them down her thighs. In doing so, he planted a trail of kisses down her right breast, catching the pebble of her nipple between his teeth, and gifting her skin with a delicate kiss. His calloused palms contrasted the sleekness of her thighs, he noted, while moving them down to her knees, at which point Caroline took over removal with alternating movements of her feet, her hands being occupied in the short brown hair on Dean's head. While his hands shifted back to squeeze her hips, her fingers curled into his scalp at the sensation of his tongue on her nipple, the constant suckling and tugging between his _blunt_ teeth – a pleasant change.

Not allowing herself to become lost in the moment, she pulled him forcibly upright again, signalling him to stand. Tilting her head to one side, she locked her gaze with his and rested her hands on his shoulders. "You do know I really hate you for disappearing Dean?"

Obviously, this took him by surprise, though more so the circumstances of the question than the content. The latter was logical, but why was she constantly making a point of it…when they were both in various states of undress. He felt himself beginning to develop a sense of rage, just a little to start, at the obscenity of it all. Would she make up her damn mind? One minute she wants him here, the next she's hitting him, the next she's undressing him and now she's on a new agenda. Stop and start and stop and start. He had half a mind to tell her this was why nothing ever worked for the girl. He thought it a miracle he was still chasing her down, especially considering his job. He surprised himself reflecting on that, and probably surprised her too when he decided enough was enough of her little indecisive game.

Her silence came with Dean's fall to one knee as he pushed her to the wall, her protest turning to an almost silent gasp as he pressed his lips to her inner thigh. Teasingly slowly he trailed his lips upwards to her apex and braced himself, moving her legs at her lower thigh over his shoulders. Then, burying his face against her, he rose to stand, lifting her up the wall with a swift, steady movement.

With this, he was overcome by a combined sense of lust and aggression, which only became encouraged when Caroline wrapped her legs tightly around the back of his head, holding him in place. There he felt the stubble of his chin brush against the inside of her thighs, and the powerful motion of his tongue brushing against her delicate bud, before he forced it lower to part her tight lips.

Every second that passed seemed to bring a greater response from Caroline. Her fingers curled into his hair, roughly clutching his scalp, before the intricate patterns his tip of his tongue painted on her skin caused her focus to waver, the overwhelming ecstasy screaming for more; more of his tongue, more of his hunger, more of his body. Caroline found herself craving the forbidden, sweet fruits of Dean Winchester. Yet Dean seemingly had no intention of pausing, the teasing flicker of his flesh on her body only sought to send another ripple through her core, and suddenly all she could think of was the sensation. Her wandering thoughts were snapped back, and her elated senses honed in on a symphony of sounds; her frantic panting that only seemed to escalate, the heavy drumming of the beating heart inside Dean's muscular chest, the repetitive lapping that came from between her thighs.

Her pleasurable trance was broken when she felt the absence of his tongue, and after a moment, looked down to notice his glistening lips, and eyes darkened with passionate intent. She dropped her legs from his shoulders, and between them, found herself lowered back down the wall. A delicate process causing an unnecessary pause for the both of them, she reflected, which soon concluded as Dean silently pressed her to the wall, and now almost level with one another, held both her wrists above her head. He took a step into her, his potent length slipping between her legs and resting against her sex. She could feel it pulse, its excitement and desire overflowing every time she shifted, rubbing it against her entrance. But Dean took no notice of her subtle invitation, and quickly she became frustrated. For a simple human, he possessed incredible strength, holding her arms firmly in place. With every twitch of her thighs, trying to entice him, she grew increasingly impatient.

"Dean" she whined, only to be silenced by his trailing lips burrowing into her neck, the tongue wet with her essence painting her skin. He pressed himself against her and now his length parted her lips. She could feel every hard inch, warm and ready for her slick folds. She wanted it all, but she couldn't for the life of her obtain it.

In a moment of frustration, Caroline forced her hands free and shoved him back, just enough for her to slip away to the stairway, before turning her head over her shoulder, and beckoning him with a playful slap to her backside.

"If you want to play _tease_ Dean Winchester, then by all means, come and get me" and with that, she disappeared up the staircase, leaving an incredibly ravenous Dean in pursuit. He chased her, but by the time he reached the landing, any trace of her was gone.

"Damn she moves quick" and he couldn't help but laugh to himself thinking about all that entailed. He was graced with a subtle clue as to her location when she released an impatient giggle from behind a familiar bedroom door.

"Don't let me get too carried away" were the words that met him as he opened the door to an even more inviting sight. He turned to shut the door behind him, but was surprised as he turned back to face the bed that Caroline now stood in front of him, and hurriedly dragged him across the room, before tossing him with surprising force towards the sheets.

"You really thought you'd get it off so lightly, with just a ripped up shirt and a slap to that gorgeous face? Nonono" she chimed, walking towards the bed, and climbing over the edge. Dean was roughly in the centre of the mattress, and Caroline crawled over to him, straddling her legs across his calves, and leaning forwards to press her nose to the front side of his right thigh. Dean felt the heavy weight sink in his gut when he realised what he was about to be served. Revenge.

Her succulent, plump lips dotted kisses along his thigh as her soft fingers curled around his length and her thumb began to teasingly rub against his tip. He felt himself progressively tense, from his toes all the way through to his crotch, as her infuriatingly slow strokes began, and her lips drew closer to his shaft. Yet still she resisted. He felt himself pulse in her hand, the strain of his arousal becoming unbearable as her hand began working his shaft, slow drawn out stroke after slow drawn out stroke, the occasional kiss to his inner thigh in between.

"Caroline!-" was all he could manage before he felt the slick warmth of her tongue wrapping around his head, and within seconds the cavern of her mouth had taken him whole. It seemed she was just as bad as him when it came to self-control. Instinctively, he raised his hands to sweep stray blonde cables off her face, guiding both palms around the circumference of her head, before running his fingers into her hair and gently applying pressure to encourage her intake of his hardness. Dean felt every thick inch disappear into her mouth, washed over by her enthusiastic tongue, and eventually, her soft nose touching against his crotch. He felt her throat relax as she began a soft hum, causing him to sit his head up and groan heartily before collapsing back onto the bed and letting his hands fall away to the sheets, where he quickly crumpled her crisp linen sheets into his fists.

Minutes passed where Dean revisited what could have been taken as Heaven. The slow bobbing of blonde hair between his thighs, every motion of her tongue sending ripples down his shaft and occasionally, her knowing tricks causing his legs to tense either side of her. She teased him with her velvet fingertips, running the dainty pads along his thighs, and around his crotch, and onto his stomach. She treated him to a gentle teasing stroke with them finally as her head rose off his length, tongue lapping at his tip, while he groaned with the utmost impatience. All she did was laugh at him, a cute laugh almost. In fact, Dean would have taken it as just that if she didn't proceed to straddle across his thighs and guide her hand between their bodies, only to begin brushing his glistening tip between her lower lips. He raised his brows in protest, and then attempted to move his hands onto her hips and lower her forcibly, but was instantly rebuffed by her spare hand.

"No Dean. Have some patience" and when patience was in such short supply, she truly was testing him. She expended the precious resource further by sitting forward abruptly, both hands initially pressing on his chest with surprising force, and he tensed in response to be rewarded with a smirk. She trailed her hand behind her form, and back to between his legs, once again taking hold of his erection and gently stroking it.

"You know I don't have any…" but to that, all she replied with a dismissive shake of her head. Again he felt her bodyweight shift, and the rise of her hips on top of his crotch where she fed his length between her thighs, every slick inch summoning a louder moan as she lowered herself, and suddenly her expression was that of astonishment and bliss as he filled her, easing himself between tight walls. Without wasting a second, she leaned forward, and with her hands fixed on his broad chest, began a quick rise and fall, her legs digging into his sides as she began to slap her backside down onto his thighs. He ran his hands up her arms, and inwards, closing his palms around her breasts as she bounced on top of him, his length seeming to slip out of her for half a second before disappearing again.

Caroline pressed herself down against Dean, tightening herself around his impressive shaft deliberately, just to summon his helpless expression of mind-blowing pleasure for the hundredth time already. She felt almost addicted to driving him insane, to having his hands on her body, to the feeling of him so deep inside her…but she couldn't help it. No other guy, not Damon, not Tyler had been so excited by her, and neither of them so rewarding where it mattered. Sure Damon had some charm, and Tyler had an incredible body and energy…but Dean was a simple human, and she could feel something different. She rode with aggression that would seem passive to the aforementioned names, but the man beneath her had never felt anything like it. Every blossoming expression of delight with every cycle of her hips reaffirmed that. She arched her back as she felt him pulse inside her, rolling her hips against his, unable to hold in an especially loud cry.

"Fuck Dean" she whimpered unintentionally, following it with a string of incoherent words, her face creasing into that of an impending orgasm. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd lowered her form against his, pressing her chest firmly against his torso and forcing his hands to adjust to her sides. Her mouth captured his, tongue entwining around his as she began a slower motion with her body. She encouraged his tough, calloused hands stroking along her lower back and curling into the cheeks of her backside, a low groan escaping their kiss as her body was handled to accommodate his lust. She felt every inch of him tremor, and then his warm release and a shared silence, if only for a few seconds as Dean's face morphed into a display of overwhelming elation, before the moment came crashing down with a cacophony of heavy panting, groans and the slowing clap of their bodies to one another.

-9-


	10. Chapter 10

**I suppose I should start with an apology for not updating this is over a month. Reason being, as you might expect, is that exams and life got the best of me for a while, as well as me forgetting to update for a couple of weeks despite having chapters to post. So, hopefully this makes up for it. Enjoy.**

-10-

"I'm still mad at you Dean…" Caroline huffed into Dean's chest.

"I bet you are" he replied, pecking a kiss to the top of her head. The pair of them had quickly made themselves comfortable in the others embrace after they finished, and Caroline dragged them both to the shower. Though it was affectionate, they truly were exhausted, and nothing more seemed to happen in the way of that first encounter. So, there they lay, the fresh tingle of the shower colliding with the scent of their sex.

The perfect sheets were well and truly ruffled, much to Caroline's satisfaction. The hybrid of angry-make up sex had really put a silver lining on the whole experience, she reflected.

"Hey" he chimed up quietly while she drew her fingernail across his skin "you know I won't be around tomorrow evening…as a warning in advance. Got some business to attend to"

"What sort of business would that be Dean?" she responded angelically, continuing to trance intricate patterns.

"You know, _business _business" he said, before adding "the family kind" as a prompt, to which a small "ooooooh" floated into the air in acknowledgement.

"So…what're you going after?" She probed hesitantly, more than aware of what he might find.

"You've got a werewolf lurking around the place somewhere. I'd put my money on it being the thing that overturned the car just a few miles out of town"

Caroline turned her head on his chest, listening intently to the heart beating away within. There was every chance in the next 24 hours it could end up plucked and beating in the heart of someone who caught him for what he was…a hunter. By chance, her eyes drifted out of her window, and at just enough of an angle caught the silver orb hanging in the darkness; enough to trigger a bullet train of thought.

"But Dean…the moon. It could be full tomorrow" She couldn't judge it well from where she lay. "You know what the legends are like, about the wolves being all big and ferocious. And I just don't want you getting hurt okay?"

His only response was a silent kiss. She knew already of his intentions, and more so of her own precautions, but the most pressing concern of all soon took the pair of them: sleep.

The morning after came as a pleasant surprise to Caroline, for Dean was still sound asleep when she woke. Never one to waste a moment, she pecked his chest before slowly shifting his arm and freeing herself. She had her morning cravings that needed attention, and while the sleeping giant lay dormant in her bed, she made her way to the kitchen, and retrieved a bag from the freezer. She immediately tore the cap free and gulped down the thick crimson liquid. Oh how good it felt, so cold on a morning, enough to wake her up properly from her sleepy daze. After a few minutes, she felt satisfied and resealed the bag before positioning it back into the shelf. She was surprised that having taken such a lengthy pause in doses, that she hadn't taken a proper bite out of Dean. For some reason, she'd never felt the urge. Perhaps it was since she subconsciously couldn't ever consider hurting him, and well, sinking her teeth into his neck wasn't exactly a painless procedure.

The next question that sprang to mind was breakfast. It seemed like forever since she'd had to prepare anything. She rummaged through the fridge, glad to find it was freshly stocked. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who really enjoyed bacon and really, eating in general. So logically, creating a mountain of sandwiches seemed like a good idea. You know, one or two for her, and five or six for him. Two packets, half a loaf and the best part of an hour later, and she was balancing two mugs of coffee and a large plate of food in her two hands. As she kicked open the door, she saw Dean roll over with a sleepy smile on his face, which grew to a beaming grin as he saw the welcome surprise.

"I knew there was a reason I stuck about this morning" Dean remarked, to which Caroline cast him a scowl. She couldn't keep it up for long, soon allowing a smile to overwhelm her as she admired his exposed upper body while setting the plate on the side table, and handing him a mug of coffee.

After a sip, she inquired about last night, specifically the conversation they'd had prior to falling asleep. "You're adamant about going out tonight?" she said raising her eyebrows in sincere curiosity. Dean, within minutes, had almost emptied the plate, which she didn't honestly mind. She was happy to just sit on the edge of the bed and slowly drink coffee until he finally replied.

"Job's gotta be done. I sort this wolf out and I can go about seeing my brother again. I mean, I came here for a nest but…no trace in hell of it. Believe me"

She studied him intently, though tried to make her expression show otherwise. Dean Winchester: a supernatural hunter of anything and everything. But a hunter who talked about 'vampire nests' as though he was after a rare species of bird. And if nothing else, the vampires of Mystic Falls certainly weren't a chirpy lot.

She dwelled on her thoughts for the remainder of the conversation, and even though Dean didn't make reference to it again, she couldn't help but worry when he left the house that evening.

The Impala was cold when Dean finally took a seat behind the wheel that evening. By the time he'd got away from the town, the daylight was disappearing at a pace, and as he got onto the roads surrounding the area, he required headlights to navigate.

He came to the road where the accident had occurred, the only signs of such being the tape cast loosely across the road and the indent in the tree line. Most of the wreckage, and really any trace of activity here had disappeared. He sat for a moment surveying the area, the beam of his headlights catching a small wreath of flowers set under a tree. It took that little symbol for the entire situation to truly sink in to Dean. He realised in all the years he'd been working this field, every death was just part of the case. Not a statistic by any means, but not a life either. Sure when we saw it happen it meant something, and to someone he knew, even more so. But dead bodies now were just one aspect of an average day. And it took the complete solitude of him and the Impala to appreciate that he was only here because of people dying. With that solemn thought in mind, he snapped back to reality, and rose out the driver's seat.

He made his way to the back of the car, and opening the trunk, gathered the usual itinerary for a wolf job. "Silver stake" he reeled off, attaching it to his person before releasing the magazine on one of the adapted pistols. "Silver bullets, more of those" and he loaded the additional clip into his back pocket. "If only that Colt didn't grow damn legs. So much easier!" He shook his head in slight frustration before withdrawing a second stake just for good measure and the every faithful torch, and shutting the boot of the Impala.

It took Dean a few minutes of tentative walking to realise the only sound in his immediate vicinity was his own respiring punctuated by the occasional crack or crunch of the earth underfoot. Every few steps his attire would jangle, and sometimes the stake would bluntly connect with an awkward branch, but aside from his own actions, not a sound was present.

Dean came to a small clearing, apparently natural formed, for he saw no trace of human influence. Not sign's or crests or anything of the sort; just a gap in the dotting of trees. While he stood in its origin, he paused to appreciate his surroundings. Looking back, the forest seemed to have closed behind him, almost swallowing him. No trace of the gap in the hedge, just thick fauna. It took him a moment longer to adjust to quite how dark it had become. Before, the moonlight had gifted him some form of a path, accompanying the powerful torch beam, but now, even the mechanical light source seemed to be struggling to illuminate the environment. Dean, through a combination of resolve and experience, was a typically calm guy even in relatively disturbing scenarios. But he'd almost always had Sam, or another hunter…or Cas. Someone to cover his back, yet now, he had no one: nothing but his gut instinct, which wasn't all too reassuring at present, and his trusty piece of silver.

"Why couldn't it just be demons?" he mused.

Then a snap whispered from outside Dean's field of view. Dean paused. Whatever it was had silenced itself. But he had company. Paranoia didn't exist in the world of Dean Winchester. When your kid tells you there's a monster in the cupboard, or under the bed, or at the window, the chances are there usually fucking is. And now, when one half of the inside of Dean's head was screaming for him to turn and look, and the other to remain focused on what was in front of him, well, it was almost hell.

He roared a challenge to whatever it was stalking him. Now, the creature took spared no time making its presence audible and distinct. Flickers of colouring that differentiated from the black and brown of the wood flashed before Dean, as he turned back and forth trying to keep track on it. With a stake occupying one hand at the ready, he pulled free the pistol from his side, and on impulse fired off rounds as he saw any slight movement. But it was getting closer, and with it, the guttural growl grew in decibels with every meter the beast gained. Dean pulled the trigger under the gun fell silent, and with the knowledge he'd have no time to reload, dropped it to the floor, filling his spare hand with the second length of silver. This son of a bitch was in for one hell of surprise, he thought, as it stumbled into his sight line for the first time. Good thing he brought two, considering the oversized puppy was the size of a small horse. He felt his grip tighten, only moments before the beast leapt for him, with meters yet to run, launching itself towards him. In a blur, Dean was knocked down to the ground with an almighty crack and spasm of pain streaking up his spine. He released a cry of anguish, his breath forcing itself out his lungs as he drove both stakes upwards, feeling them meet tough resistance as they pierced and slid into the mass of fur and muscle that towered over him. In response, he felt the talon like claws sink into his side, and as he attempted to gut the animal, it mimicked him, sinking the blade like nail deeper still and tearing his side open. His mind was conjuring images of thick rusted chains, the bulking hooks stung into his limbs…it was all he could feel now. Alastair was laughing in his ears. It was ringing over and over, drowning out the sounds of his own agony. "CAS? SAMMY! SOMEBODY. PLEASE." But it was unrelenting. The pain had no intention of slowing, and as his strength wavered, he drew back his hands and tried again, a different spot…to similar effect. It didn't pause. It didn't stop. It didn't end. Death wasn't coming for Dean, it had abandoned him; to be ripped apart and eaten alive.

He felt the weight, the pressure leave his chest and roll off his body. Dean was choking, coughing on his own blood, and he felt it warm and thick in and around his throat, as well as swelling over the hand he applied to his side. Through his fragmented vision, he caught glimpses of something fast, almost unattainable flitting about the grey bulk and keeping it restrained, in fact, he dared say beating it down. Yet when it finally turned back, it looked demonic, possessed even. A demon possessing who? Her perhaps? But no, it couldn't be. Why would they save him, when he was being tortured to an agonisingly slow death? Questions flooded Dean as consciousness failed him, and with a demonic visage fast approaching, his world fell blank.

-10-


	11. Chapter 11

**Author update: Since this is the first thing I've uploaded in a very long time, I suppose it's worth including a few notes. I have a few chapters in hand for this fic, and will resume updating it, though slowly, over the next few weeks. I'm working on nailing a key section of the storyline but I want to get it right, so it will probably take a while. On a separate note, if people who are following the Hobbit fic see this, then chapters will similarly be out for that, hopefully within the next couple of days. Finally, I have another fic in the works at the moment, but again, I want to write it up to a decent point before beginning to post. With all that said, I hope you enjoy.**

-11-

Time slowed, almost froze even, for Caroline as she saw Dean fall back. She was still too far away and as much as she pushed herself the gap wasn't closing quickly enough. Through a combination of intended aggression and accidental bloodlust, she felt herself morphing; the sharp pain in her jaw told her that much, and the strain of skin on her face confirmed it. The element of predation spurred her, and as much as _she_ didn't see it like that, her instincts painted a different picture in front of her; one of prey, and a rival predator. Dean was not ever going to be that to her…but her vampire half was so hungry. Fresh, warm, vulnerable: Dean Winchester. The balance of the scales tipped back and forth for a split second until her thoughts bounced to a more pressing matter. The large wolf – no! – the enormous wolf pinning Dean. It was rippling and sprayed in blood and dirt, layering colour on the grey knotted fur. Was this even a werewolf? It was bigger than any she'd seen before if that were the case.

She felt her shoulder crunch as she ran into the side of it, and shrieked in pain accordingly. With her own strength strained, she momentarily marvelled at how Dean had kept it at bay to the limited extent he'd managed. With a sudden influx of energy, she toppled the beast off Dean's broken figure and flipped it to the ground. On it in a flash, she found it responded similarly, wrestling with her for control. The red stain on its jaw sickened her, for she knew its source, yet the wolf seemed indifferent and uncaring. Caroline had become its second course and in response, it snapped viciously at her fists whenever she connected them to its face. Soon the sound of splintering bones in her own hands and its skull dulled into the wet mulch of the pulp she'd created, and the creature fell silent and immobile.

She stood, her hands screaming in agony, as well as her left shoulder. She needed blood, with good reason and the scent was upon her. Just a quick sip would be all she needed…but how much did she want? She sighed and deliberated as she gazed at a lacerated Dean. Now unconscious, he was so easily taken advantage of. She'd drain him, she knew it, despite her desire not to. And he needed her blood just as much. She knelt beside him and nipped her wrist before touching it to his lips. Her blood seemed to travel down his chin, but after a while she felt the lightest sensation of suction. There she sat for what seemed like hours to no effect. The orange hue of the sun was beginning to poke through gaps in the ceiling, so the very early morning had arrived. She felt somewhat restored, since repairing the lighter wounds took the swipe of her tongue on smaller gashes. Yet the gored torso wasn't closing up and that worried her. Dean sipped for moments at a time before falling away again. It was hopeless. She couldn't wake him or feed him properly. She was helpless.

She fumbled for her phone – of course she'd left it at home. He was in no state to move to the car and get to hospital. Oh this was such a mess. Why couldn't he just stay in bed for one night? She cursed, loudly and repeatedly. Then she prayed, not that religion had a huge influence on life in Mystic Falls, but what else was there to do. She needed a miracle.

The flutter of wings was an unacquainted sound to Caroline's ears. She didn't recall any large birds living in the surrounding woods. Definitely nothing large enough to make a sound like that, so, she was curious. Turning her head slowly, she surveyed the woodland in front of her, and then the treeline but nothing became apparent as the source.

"Can I just say, I've had enough of the oversized animal kingdom for one day!"

The only response was a simple clearing of a throat from behind her. Rolling her eyes, she sighed and stood, turning to face…a man. He possessed an almost blank expression, his eyes glancing over her and then focusing on Dean, prompting him to tilt his head. He wore a large cream trench coat, with scruffy work clothes and a blue tie underneath. The hair on his head was untidy, but suited him.

"You don't think you called a little late?" he said suddenly, walking slowly but purposefully towards Dean. She watched, uncertain but somehow not scared.

"I didn't call anyone…and who are you anyway?" she said, a little agitated, but mainly curious. He took her place by Dean's side, kneeling and studying him and his wounds.

"I wasn't referring to you. I was referring to him. He called a little late. And to answer your question, I'm a friend of Dean" he replied, touching a hand to Dean's chest, and another to the blood stained side of his stomach.

With the long night, this was just becoming too much for Caroline. Her head was beginning to spin a little as she watched the man's hand begin to glow. "He didn't tell me he had friends in town. Wait…what're you doing to him?"

He knelt in almost silence, humming to himself as he followed the path of his hands till they converged on the most severe of Dean's inflictions. When he finally removed his hands and stood, Caroline gasped in disbelief. He was fixed. His skin with fixed, intact and to the naked eye, untouched.

"I'll take him home" the man said. He rummaged in the pocket of Dean's jacket and pulled free car keys. "He'd also appreciate if you brought the Impala home. He values his car more than his life…" He stared down for a moment before finishing "…as is apparent"

Caroline of course, frowned at this. "I don't like driving. And I can probably get him home a hell of a lot faster than you Mister"

Dean was picked up and cradled in the man's arms at which point he turned to Caroline. "I doubt it." And with another loud sweep of invisible wings, he vanished.

-11-


	12. Chapter 12

-12-

Dean woke up in what seemed like paradise. If the place didn't hold such a bad a reputation with him, he might have called it heaven. It was somewhere familiar; warm and comforting, like home. Was he at home? Did he have a place to call home these days? Really, he thought, he just drifted. Appeared where he was needed. Like a superhero… just without the 'super'.

There was a new sensation then – one of tenderness and compassion – that graced his cheek. A small and familiar fingertip rubbed against the bristles of his chin and back up to his lip. He knew the face that loomed over him, but he couldn't place a name. She could though. Her voice was soothing. Sensitive. Smooth. She sat and said his name over and over, not with urgency or fear. It was a steady tone of reassurance. Dean was alive. It took time (he wasn't sure how long) for him to come back to even a limited sense of normality. "Caroline" he croaked back at her, his chest bursting at the exertion of just one word.

"You're safe Dean" was the response. She touched a cold glass to his head and he felt a sudden relief. He noticed how hot he was when she did so and then, how much colder her skin was. He hadn't ever noticed it before, but the stark contrast now really was clear. He shifted his arm, walking his fingers up to the wrist of her spare hand before closing them in place. She was his security.

"Did you save me?" he whispered. He could barely open his eyes yet. Even the darkness was on the bright side. Yet Caroline was shining, and he couldn't pull his gaze away. She was the single star in the sky guiding him.

"Yes and no" she replied calmly. "There was only so much I could do. There was…someone else. A man"

"Who was..what did he look like?" Dean leant against her hand, allowing her to stroke her fingers into his hair.

She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "He was strange. Wore a trench coat. I think he was a warlock or something cause he used some magic to make you better. And he made bird noises. Like, wing noises" she frowned at her own description. She probably sounded mad. Madder still that the sound played over and over in her head for seconds after she said it.

"Hello Dean" came a voice from behind them.

Dean paused and forced himself to sit up a little and study the man who had appeared before them. "Cas? The hell you think you're doing turning up here after all the screaming I did for you last night"

"Shush Dean, be quiet. That's him. That's the guy from the woods"

"You're correct. We have met before. " Cas nodded in confirmation. "Dean I have news."

"Cas, there was a demon in the woods. Did you get it?" Dean almost growled the question, cutting him off.

Caroline looked shocked and confused. "A demon?" she exclaimed in surprise, though the other pair paid little attention to her.

"There was no demon Dean" Cas explained. He looked over at Caroline, studying her delicately with the heavy eyes he possessed. "It was something new, or more, a new breed of something old"

Dean looked perplexed. "Me and Sammy made sure Eve was out of business. Who's messing with the gene pool now Cas?"

"That I can't tell you I'm afraid. Not right now at least. I don't know yet. You know I'll tell you as soon as it makes sense to me"

"Cas you're an _angel_. How can you not know what's going on?"

Caroline chimed in with the exclamation of "An _ANGEL_?" but again, she went relatively unnoticed.

Cas shrugged at this and looked back towards Dean. "This place is…strange. Where is Sam? I believe you'll need him"

This time Caroline said something which caught their attention. "He said his case with the…rugahhroo is finished He's heading over here, to Virginia. I spoke to him while you slept Dean. Sorry" her voice had withdrawn to a meek shell of what it was before and she fell silent once again, fumbling her fingers in his hand.

Dean groaned as he sat upright against the headboard and peered at Castiel. "Cas, what do I Sam for?"

"I think I've found the colt Dean. It's somewhere nearby. One of the creations has it"

"The…creations?"

Castiel grimaced, trying to think of a way to put it simply. He was becoming frustrated with his inability to articulate himself. "The distorted supernatural around here Dean: there's a lot of it. Half of one thing and half of another-"

"You mean hybrids?" Caroline said quickly.

Dean raised a brow. "What, like Jeffersons?" to which Cas held a blank expression, while Caroline gave him a look of confusion.

"No silly, like half werewolf and half vampire"

"Ok!" Dean held his hands up, exasperated. "I've had more than enough evidence that we have a serious issue with strays around here, but blood suckers? I haven't seen any trace of a nest in the week I've been here." Dean looked down contemplating a question, before looking back at Caroline and starting. "Do you…do you know anything about vampires Caroline?"

Castiel tilted his head inquisitively. Caroline froze, and her eyes widened like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Are you going to tell him, or shall I?" came the voice of the angel. Caroline simply stuttered in response. "Dean…she is a vampire"

-12-


	13. Chapter 13

-13-

Sam rummaged for his phone in the pile of wrappers and boxes that sat on the seat beside him. His eyes flickered from his hand to the road, imitating the way Dean would stare into nothingness for minutes on end while driving perfectly straight.

"Hello?" Sam answered as he finally flicked the phone open placing it to his ear.

"Sam we have a big problem, so get your ass over here. And I mean fast" came a very serious tone from Dean.

"Dean, slow down a minute. I'm already driving your way as we speak. I can't be more than an hour out. What's the problem?"

"Where to begin?" Dean asked, almost to himself. "We've got werewolves, that's for sure. And also vampires. I er…I've been sleeping with one"

Typical Dean. Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief and sighed deliberately loudly. "You did _what?"_

"Exactly what I just said Sammy. And that's just an introduction. We have a lot to deal with. Not only have we got ourselves werewolves, and vamps, but there's erm…something else. They're called Hybrids. And they're not Starships"

"We have any idea how to kill them?"

"That's half the problem. This whole place is backwards. Cas doesn't feel things are settled here. Something's off. Something is wrong. I just don't know what. Silver doesn't work on wolves and hell, this vamp necks, 'scuse the pun, 'dead man's blood' like I drink beer. They get freaking stronger Sam."

Sam hesitated to reply, deep in thought. "Anyone spoken to Bobby?" he said.

He heard Dean breathing at the other end. "Yeah, just before I called you. He seemed as clueless as we are. Bobby, Cas, Dad's damn journal…nothing at all. But here's the interesting part. Cas found something that kinda does the job for us."

"…The Colt?" Sam finished for him, almost instinctively.

Sam hadn't been wrong about his timing. A little over an hour later he'd pulled up beside an all too familiar Impala, with all its Winchester oddities, and now sat in the living room of the Forbes household opposite his brother. There was a vampire in the kitchen fixing him a drink, and Castiel stood beside the fireplace, humming quietly to himself.

"You know what I'm gunna say already and we haven't even got started Dean"

"You know what I'll reply so why even mention it Sammy?"

"I think it's a safe assumption to say _she's_ done more bad than Amy ever did"

"Dude, she drinks from a fucking blood bag. Do you see any fang marks on my neck? Grow up Sam. She's different. And that's the end of discussion."

Sam was fuming inside. Dean would argue what, that she's a childhood friend and only doing what she needs to survive? Well so did Amy. Didn't stop Dean. Nothing ever stopped Dean. What was it with Dean and vampires anyway? Next thing you know he's spent a night with Benny. Typical Dean.

"You know what? Fine. We have _much_ bigger problems at hand here" he sighed in an overly exaggerated manner before turning to face Castiel. "So, where's the colt Cas?

Cas' eyes finally flickered back to the living room. He glanced at Dean, and then to Sam, and then the door from the kitchen as Caroline returned with her hands full of glasses, passing them to the occupants of the room before taking a seat beside Dean.

"What is this colt anyway? Like a gun?" Caroline asked. She still hadn't been clued in on what the plan was, or what it consisted of, and seemed as inquisitive about this as the Winchesters were eager for answers.

Castiel paused for a moment, so Sam instead explained.

"The easiest way to explain it to you, would be a magic revolver that shoots magic bullets and kills everything but the Devil himself and a few other beings much more powerful than vampires." Dean glared as he finished, and Sam noticed the acidic tone that he didn't fully intend to deliver his words by as Caroline sat back into the seat and stared into her glass.

"So anyway" Sam needed to break the silence "You were saying Cas?"

"The colt is in the possession of one of these Hybrid types. I've found it and I know this man who holds it. He's been around for quite a long time, and relatively unnoticed considering what he's been up to in his lifetime. He's a collector, of sorts, for what he deems antiquities and has quite a method of collecting what he wants."

Dean threw his hands up unexpectedly. "So why haven't you just smited this son of a bitch and picked the Colt up Cas? That'll take you what, five minutes?"

"It's not that simple Dean. He's employed magic, dark magic to keep it shrouded. Whoever is helping him is more than acquainted with the supernatural, and by that I mean our kind of supernatural. They've employed demon traps, and even an angel mark or two to keep us at bay. I know where about's it's located but I can't enter. So one of you will have to"

"Well, we'll go get it and you two can stand and look pretty outside, how about that?" Dean winked at Cas, and then Caroline. "Me and Sam have got this. Easy. Snatch and grab, pull the trigger, job done. And what the hell is a hybrid?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "You're seriously telling me you've never come across them? They're like rats around this place…figuratively at least. Basically, they're half wolf and half vampire. They can wolf-out at will, yet have the fangs of vampires. It's like the best of both words; they don't mind sunlight, and they can take a silver stake too. But they do have a few weaknesses in common, for instance, a wooden stake does the normal job of at least wounding them, and both species share a common enemy in the form of beheading." she paused for a deep breath before following on. "Now look, I don't understand half this demon talk you three really enjoy, but if it's true that whoever has it knows about them, then I'd quite like to be with whoever knows how to get rid of them in the quickest manner. If Cas shows us where we need to go then I can move quicker than either of you two when we're in. I just need a little company for if things don't go to plan"

Dean stared at Sam for a long while before casting a hand in Sam's direction. "My brother can handle demons better than me. You're better off with him for this one. He's as good a hunter as me Caroline, and has been through just as much. I trust him with my life and I trust him with yours."

Sam knew what Dean meant by that, even if the reference wasn't obvious to Castiel, who seemed indifferent to the silent conflict the brothers shared.

Caroline nodded in apparent satisfaction and smiled at Sam. "So it's settled then? Our resident angel in a trench coat will sit outside and watch while we go kill some scary demons and grab a special little gun?" She had a way of making things sound so incredibly easy, Sam thought. When in hell did a Winchester plan ever go smoothly?

-13-


	14. Chapter 14

-14-

Castiel had pointed them in the right direction before disappearing to attend to other matters. For once, Dean had offered to busy himself with researching the towns supernatural past. Sam suspected it was for the best, since tempers were promising to spark if he was around Dean for much longer. What was he trying to play at with the comment in the living room anyway? Was he trying to tell Sam to be the good guy, or apologising or just being a dick like Dean had a tendency to do?

Sam huffed, loudly, and wasn't surprised when Caroline turned and raised a brow. Instantly Sam's head flooded with more questions. Assessing and over-analysing the blonde girl in front of him, as he did with everything. It wasn't hard to see why Dean had fallen for her. In fact, she looked sort of familiar, but he couldn't place the face. But there was surely something more to her, or Dean wouldn't have defended her. He's not _that_ bad after all.

"Is everything okay Sam?" She asked after a pause. He nodded, his ever reassuring nod and broke his gaze off of her.

"Sure. Just got a lot on my mind right now, getting this Colt back and all. I can't stress how important this gun is. So we really need to pull this off."

It took a while of them walking together, exchanging polite conversation usually prompted by an apparently bored, yet curious, Caroline, before they emerged on the outskirts of a quiet, yet not abandoned storage area. Rows of private garages sprawled out for a short distance in front of them, with one or two trucks strewn about the place where their owners were obviously busy.

"Careful." He said as they approached. Sam instinctively reached his arm out to his left, across Caroline's front while reaching inside his jacket for Ruby's knife. Curling his fingers around the handle gave him a boost of confidence, but it took a second for him to remember his outstretched arm. Caroline tapped it with her hand gently before slipping past it.

"Sorry" Sam attempted an apologetic expression. "Force of habit."

She responded with her beaming smile and wandered forward a few paces before turning back to face him. "What're we looking for?"

"Well, erm, a gun. Like an old revolver type. There won't be a lot of them about, so that'll stick out. But in this place…" he looked at the lanes of metal sheeting and brick walls. "Look for strange scribbles of graffiti. They're the symbols which keep Angels out."

She nodded, though she gave Sam the impression she thought he was mad. As he began walking into the complex, she vanished in a blur and immediately Sam became wary. Had she sold him out? Nobody was suddenly charging him, the weather wasn't changing, the temperature didn't suddenly chill. He hadn't been pushed by an invisible hand, nor clubbed in the back of the head…so why did he feel so uneasy?

His spare hand went to the holster at his side, where he brushed his fingers against the cold metal of his pistol. When he finally figured nothing was going to happen, he proceeded in the manner he'd planned before he was abandoned, looking around each individual garage for marks or signals they'd been anointed in Enochian. A hand brushed against his shoulder as he walked, causing him to spin instinctively, knife in hand. Caroline leapt back with astonishing reflexes, before giving him a sour glare.

"Would you be careful? Jesus. I'd really prefer to go home with my face intact, thank you very much." She huffed at him, a mix of jest and annoyance, before continuing. "I think I found it."

She walked in front of him, tossing a smile at a gruff passer-by before suddenly quickening and Sam, following her lead, kept pace with surprising ease by extending his strides. When they turned a corner within the maze of garages and lockups, he pulled her to one side with a hint of alarm.

"What was that all about? One minute you're giving them a friendly smile, then we're hurrying away…?"

"He was a hybrid. I smelt it. They smell of doggy. He smelt of doggy."

Sam gave her an incredulous look. "And it's not possible the Great Dane sitting in his backseat has anything to do with that?"

He hated being sceptical, since she was only trying to help. And surely, since she actually knew what these Hybrid types were, he should trust her? On the other hand, nothing would come from jumping the guy apart from perhaps a visit from the local police force…which was the last thing they needed.

Caroline stifled a response and gave him a stern eye. "Fine. This way."

She walked with purpose, guiding Sam to a relatively untouched lot, with familiar symbols strewn across the wall. Not only Angel warding, but Demon variants too. Whoever was hiding this wanted it to stay hidden. He went to the door and with a shoulder barged at it, but it made no signal of budging. Caroline watched him for a minute, before erupting into laughter and pushing him aside. Taking a step back she sized the door up before kicking a foot once at the thick padlock and when that fell to the floor, a second at the handle, flinging the door open.

With a smile of his own he was forced to concede that Caroline definitely was of some use. "Careful" he reminded her as she went to step inside, though she barely seemed to pay attention. The inside of the lot had more decoration than that of outside. More Angel sigils accompanied by Demon traps as well as a few other marks, some of which Sam struggled to place.

"I don't like it in here Sam. Can we just find your little gun and get out of here?"

Sam found himself thinking the same thing. Something didn't feel right. He had an uneasy sensation dwelling in his stomach as he started to rummage through boxes and crates.

"Caroline, scratch away at some of the white marks on the walls. You only need to break the sigil a little for it to lose its effect. So do enough that it's no longer complete, but try and keep it so the naked eye won't notice a difference." She nodded, happy to be finally set to purpose while Sam busied himself with his search for the Colt.

How on earth it had ended up in this place Sam would never know. When he thought about it, the last time he'd seen the colt was when Lucifer had brought back the final horseman…and he knew all too well how that ended.

His hands delved into yet another box, filled with too much stuff he didn't want to find. It all seemed a little overkill for all the sigils and magic warding the place possessed, only to hide a few books and trinkets.

And suddenly his hand brushed against something that wasn't a worn leather cover or aged pages. The handle of the gun slipped into his hand and he pulled his arm free. Almost in disbelief he stared at it, yet it had all the tells of being authentic, especially since he knew where to look. It was the colt all right. He turned back to an anxious looking Caroline, who'd managed to do as he'd suggested to a good portion of the runes on the walls. Waving the Colt in his hand he nodded towards the door, and silently she made an exit. He caught up with her outside, yet she'd adopted a quick walk as they traversed the length of the complex. "That was easy" she said quietly, after a few seconds. "Almost-"

"-too easy?" interjected a refined accent. "You two are very good, Caroline especially. I suppose I'll need a new lock for that door, and while I'm at it I expect I'll have to do a little interior design."

Sam turned in sync with Caroline to face a small group of men, one of which they'd passed earlier, fronted by a man with a young face, smartly dressed in black, and wearing a sinister smile. His eyes though, they were vicious almost; a characteristic not normally associated with eyes. The way his gaze burned into Sam would have disturbed Sam a great deal if he hadn't been so seasoned with the hunter's life. He held the Colt in his right hand, passing Ruby's knife to his left and looked over to Caroline for an explanation.

"Come on sweetheart. Don't tell me you haven't introduced us yet? Sam mate – I got that right didn't I? I go by a few names, but you can call me Klaus, your friendly neighbourhood antique collector and connoisseur of fine wine amongst many other things. How about you hand back what's rightfully mine, and I'll forget this whole fiasco ever occurred?"

Caroline mouthed "Hybrid" to Sam when he looked at her again, so at least she knew what the hell was going on.

"I'm afraid I can't do that…Klaus. If you want it, you'll have to come and get it."

Sam hoped the confidence in his voice would somehow end up filling him with purpose, but if truth be told, he felt rather helpless. The only chance of a silver lining here was that he might have a chance to test the Colt…that is, if it happened to be loaded.

"Very well" replied Klaus in a dismissive tone. "Go and fetch me my bloody gun and make sure to kill them. Both."

They moved much faster than Sam was used to, bursting from Klaus' side at a sprint, to which Caroline responded by racing to meet them, and swiftly disposed of one with a brutal display of strength he still struggled to associate with her. He guessed it would come in time, or when she showed a continued ability to decapitate grown men. Muttering a silent prayer of urgent assistance from Cas, which he doubted would do him any good due to his inability to summon Cas…ever, he snapped back to the current situation in just enough time to duck a very heavy punch before pushing into the gruff fellow from earlier, and burying the knife into his stomach. The Demon knife had no effect, other than hurting them, it seemed. Throwing the man to the floor, he lined the gun up with his head and pulled the trigger.

"Gun still works" he said to himself as the body spluttered a blue hue before ceasing to move. Before he had a moment to rest, he felt a fist crush into his ribs. Thrown backwards on impact, his brain rattled in his skull as he hit the floor and barely able to gain his focus, he managed a meek defence of slashing the knife upwards when the balled fist came down again.

That brought a scream of pain down on him instead. Piercingly loud, but at least it didn't hurt like his ribs did. With the man reeling in agony, he slashed again with a more deliberate blow, cutting through his neck, which silenced him accordingly. When he looked up, Caroline was straddled over the chest of someone who'd attached their hands to her throat, while she pinned her fingers into the sockets of his eyes. Sam watched on, and gradually winced as a groan of torment rang out. When she finally rose, a slow round of applause followed.

"Bloody good show. Made for interesting watching, I'll give you that. But come on. I'm still standing, and you two look spent. There's an easy way to resolve this Sam. Take a moment to think about it perhaps?"

"Why would I do that, when I could just do…this?" Sam raised the gun, pointing it in the direction of the last remaining hybrid, with a slight smile.

"Sam don't!" Caroline cried suddenly. "You can't…you can't do that."

Klaus smiled that same sinister grin he introduced himself with. "Caroline doesn't want you to shoot me because if I die, then she dies. As does everyone else in my vampire bloodline. Didn't expect that one, did you? Now you might see her as collateral, but big brother Dean would never forgive you would he? He _trusted _you. And if you kill his precious little Caroline, he'd never forgive you.

Sam pulled the trigger regardless. And felt a sharp shock of dread when the hammer clicked back into place without any result.

"Shit."

-14-


	15. Chapter 15

-15-

"Oops. So what's your fantastic plan B mate? Cos as much as I love her, I'll rip Caroline's throat out without a second thought and you can let that sit on your conscience before I do exactly the same to you, only slower."

Sam hauled himself onto his own two feet, and swapped the blade and the gun over in his hands, since the latter was now useless while it remained empty.

"You're stubborn _and _stupid? That doesn't make for much success does it? What thoughts are rattling around in that head of yours?" Klaus raised a finger and tapped his temple mocking him, the ever malignant smirk staying firmly planted on his face. "You're thinking you can get lucky will a little prod of that fancy knife mate? Hate to break it to you, but I can rip it out of your grasp and open your stomach with it faster than you can blink. I'm sure you reckon as a fancy hunter you can figure out how to beat me. But you can't. You really can't. I'm _faster_ than you, I'm _stronger_ than you, and best of all, I really am soulless." He gave Sam a sly wink as he emphasised the final word.

Sam realised his options really were expended. He looked at the bodies, either dead or incapacitated on the floor, and weighed up how hard the one who had stood back could really be. Yet Caroline didn't dare steal a pace in his direction, and she'd almost waltzed her way through dispatching the rest of them.

"I've killed plenty of vamps before, and then some stuff even you wouldn't fancy going up against. You don't scare me Klaus."

His initial response was enthusiastic laughter; Haunting, cold laughter, but enthusiastic as only something evil could be.

"I'm not a petty little vampire, like that one." He nodded towards Caroline. "I'm an original…an 'Alpha' as you call them, of my own species: the Hybrids. So I get the best of both worlds, and you get a very important choice. Vampire, or Werewolf? I'll kill you either way, just one hurts a hell of a lot more – Ask your brother if you don't believe me. I mean, you saw him didn't you Caroline, and he was in quite a state. How did he live through that by the way? I mean, the guy I sent to sort him out cocked things up a little but I heard he made quite a mess of Dean Winchester, enough to usually kill him. So how did he survive that, because he sure as hell isn't a vampire Caroline."

"I saved him" came an all too familiar, yet unexpected voice from just behind Sam. He jumped and looked over his shoulder at the expressionless angel. "You should probably leave now. I'll handle him."

Sam exchanged a glance at Caroline who backed up towards him as Castiel strode out purposefully between the pair of them, and the Hybrid who was now beginning to take his circumstances seriously.

"Next time you won't get a moment of mercy Sam. Remember that mate."

With that, Sam turned and with Caroline in tow, they ran.

"So what're you exactly?" Klaus finally prompted, while cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders.

"An angel of the lord God." Cas replied in a matter-of-fact tone, sliding an angel blade from the inside of his trench coat.

"So you winged vassals of the man in the clouds actually exist? For the first time in say, a millennia, consider me surprised. Well, let me tell you something that's changed around _here_. **I** **am God.**"

Cas cocked his head and responded with an mocking tone. "No…you're not God. I've _been _God, and you don't happen to possess a fraction of that power."

Klaus took the insult as provocation to action, and flitted to stand behind Castiel. "Only one way to find out, mate" he whispered, with a personal satisfaction coating his address as he fixed his hands to the Angel's neck. He twisted sharply, only to clasp his hands together, ultimately perplexed.

"Apparently so" Cas said from immediately at the hybrids back. As the Hybrid turned to face him, now overtaken with fury, he smiled, and then proceeded to thrust the blade in his right hand towards the midsection of his opponent. "I may be weakened by the Enochian symbols and magic you've used here, so I cannot simply smite you. But I can inform you that God's do not bleed like you happen to be."

Klaus growled, and upon shutting his eyes while grimacing, progressively drew to a roar as he stood and proceeded to remove the blade from his stomach. The moment he triumphantly opened them, he realised the Angel had vanished.

-15-


	16. Chapter 16

-16-

Dean sat opposite a laptop, with the screen blaring pages of text that he couldn't bring himself to sift through. On the desk around the laptop sat a tower of books, a stack of newspapers from recent years, some strange drawings only Sam would have a chance of figuring out and a mobile phone he wished would ring and draw him away from the table to do something – anything – more interesting.

He stared at the digital clock in the corner of the screen for a full minute, watching it finally tick over. _That took far too long _he thought to himself. He was considering the possibility Crowley had figured out how to slow time, and would keep him in a library for nigh eternity.

He blinked, and then again immediately after. Dean was weighing up whether sleeping would be worth the risk of Sam strolling around the corner in the next five minutes.

He decided in favour of procrastination and leant his head back against the chair, only for a sudden gush of wind to send the papers fluttering off the desk.

"Dean. Wake up."

Dean opened one eye disorientated, and looked up.

"Cas. I'm awake."

Immediately a sleeve of the trenchcoat reached for him and in response Dean stretched to grasp the laptop, before the pair of them disappeared.

* * *

"Jesus Cas, that felt terrible"

Cas frowned. "I don't feel well in this place."

"Yeah? No kidding. I feel like my legs are made of lead and my arms are…broken? Did you break my arms Cas?"

Castiel's expression didn't falter. He lowered himself to one knee and pressed his hands to Dean's shoulders, immediately relieving the pain. "Sorry." He mumbled in response.

A door opened out of sight and Sam's familiar heavy footsteps sounded from the same direction.

"Jesus Dean, you look worse than me."

Dean noticed Cas frown again, before pushing him away and sitting up.

"Hold up Cas – don't give me and Sammy that look for taking the Lord's name in vain or whatever when you aided in derailing the apocalypse. You are _just_ as bad as us. I don't even care that you're an Angel."

Castiel shrugged and stood up, while Sam hauled Dean to his feet.

"I got angel warped. What's your excuse?"

"Caroline and I found the Colt, and the guy who owned it. And then we took the Colt off the guy who owned it. Aaaaaand he tried to kill us."

Dean paused for a moment with a raised eyebrow trying to make sense of his brothers response.

"So…you got the Colt? What's the problem? Let's find this 'Hybrid' thing and smoke it's ass."

Sam pulled the Colt from his hip and broke it open. "Gun's empty. It's useless."

Dean rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Sam, we can make the damn bullets. Bobby did it before and I'm sure it's not that difficult. You give him a ring and figure out the technical mumbo jumbo alright? Then we'll get down to business"

Sam let out a loud sigh and handed the Colt over to Dean. "Thanks for risking your life Sam, like you always do, and for not killing Caroline like I did to Amy" he added sarcastically. Sam turned swiftly and reached for the door. It was always _take take take _ with Dean. Never a single 'thank you'. He was surprised when Dean cleared his throat and called out after him. "Sammy" he forced out, looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry. I _really_ am." Sam nodded and carried on out the room, taking Caroline's revelation with him.

* * *

Dean lounged around feeling sorry for himself afterwards, since Cas had disappeared for some sort of angel duty and Caroline was busy doing…Caroline things. Sam walked in almost an hour later, gave him a stare that said "we have bigger issues right now" and pointed to his phone, as he slid it into his jacket. "I'm gunna need your help. Magic bullets apparently take more than one set of hands."

Dean rose to his feet and with a grunt, followed Sam through to the garage, which had been converted into a temporary Hunter's lair from the looks of things. The ever present laptop was open and glowing with Dad's journal resting open beside it, and some scraps of paper with presumably the instructions from Bobby scrawled down on them.

"See, when Bobby and Ruby fixed the Colt, she used magic to fashion the bullets that we could use on anything and everything, apart from, you know, Lucifer and the gang. Thing is, Bobby wasn't really sure how she did it _exactly_ but he reckons he's pieced together the gist of it in his spare time-"

"Good old Bobby" Dean interjected, before Sam gave him his serious face.

"Yeah, well. Don't go praising him just yet. He thinks, since Ruby was using demon magic, we'll need to dabble in the dark arts ourselves. You don't have any witches on that phone of yours do you? You know, with the apparent contact list of all your supernatural girlfriends?"

Dean decided against rising to the bait. "No Sam. No, I do not."

"Lucky I do then" came a voice from the doorway. Caroline peaked a brow as she walked into her renovated garage. "Firstly, I like what you've done with the place Sam. Very…eerie. And secondly, how many girlfriends _have_ you had Dean? Are many of them 'special' like me?"

Dean shot a look at Sam that said _Don't you dare answer that_ and Sam could only smirk before pressing on.

"You say you know a witch? We'll need her help."

Caroline stared at the brothers, and then at the table adorned with metal casings and a thick leather book which looked like something out of the storage room they'd grabbed the Colt from.

"Alright, but I can't convince her to step back into magic without a really good reason. She's kinda abstaining herself from it these days."

Her gaze bounced between the brothers, silently pleading for assistance. Sam and Dean exchanged a wordless conversation till Dean threw up his arms. "Don't look at me. You're far better at explaining the messes we get ourselves into. And anyway, I think I'm getting the hang of the research thing. I'll keep looking for anything new for the bullets, you go get the witch to come help us out."

Sam shrugged and stood up, following after Caroline, but just before he disappeared Dean spoke up.

"Sam. You better be careful."

"Always am Dean. Always am."

* * *

Two sets of footsteps brought Dean back to reality. _Two. And neither of them heavy enough for Sam._ Two figures entered the garage and he realised it was Caroline, with company.

"Hey! Hey! Where is Sam? Why are there only two of you?" he asked, a slight sense of unease beginning to form in his stomach.

"Dean, this is Bonnie. She's the witch you're after." Caroline said, with an obvious look of concern on a face which was usually so expressive.

The lack of a proper reply didn't help to settle Dean's nerves. "That didn't answer my question Caroline. Where is Sam?" Dean brought a hand down on the table creating an unexpected bang. Bonnie looked at Caroline, and then directly at Dean. "Klaus, the hybrid, showed up. Sam told us to get back while he bought us some time."

Dean rose from his seat and began striding towards the door when Caroline put her hand on his chest and pushed him back.

"You will not be able to handle him alone. You need to fix this gun thing because _he_ is strong. Okay. Stronger than me. Stronger than Sam. Stronger than Cas. And right now the only thing that will save your brother is you and Bonnie working together. Okay?"

Dean fought back his emotions and went back to the table. He brought together the black leather tome, the scraps of instructions and a few other notes he found that might be of use and set to work with Bonnie, the witch he'd never met, but now had to trust entirely.

-16-


End file.
